


if your hand is warm in mine

by wanderinglilly



Series: an adventure is certain to start in the stars [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairies, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Winx Club Fusion, F/M, M/M, basically everyone is a fairy or a specialist bc i am trash, bell and o are bloom fight me, bellamy blake vs the bodysuit of evil
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-19 16:57:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4753994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderinglilly/pseuds/wanderinglilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy discovers he's a fairy when he's twenty two.</p><p>He’s not actually a fairy since, unlike his sister Octavia, he’s not a girl. He’s more of a magical being of some sort or, as Clarke likes to call him, a Specialist, whatever the hell that is. However, Octavia gets to call herself a fairy, as well as a magical transformation sequence and a nice new outfit that just appears out of nowhere –which is ten different kinds of cool. And since Bellamy’s been raising his sister since he was six, he can call himself a freaking honorary fairy.</p><p>-<br/>OR i am trash for early 2000's cartoons and needed this to exist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a magical being of some sort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rashaka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rashaka/gifts), [Fhelitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fhelitch/gifts), [goldenheadfreckledheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenheadfreckledheart/gifts).



> special thanks to the beautiful
> 
>  
> 
> [thegrounders](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrounders)
> 
>  
> 
> for being the most wonderful beta one could ever ask for and bearing with all my dumb mistakes <3 
> 
> now i know i have about three ongoing fics but a)this wrote itself and b)i'm not sorry. the other fics will be put on hold atm because i really need to get the winx au out of my system but there will be updates for them when i am done with this i promise!! 
> 
> This is also a gift for all the ladies in the bellarke whatsapp group whom i love!  
> -  
> Title from the season 1 opening theme of Winx Club.

Bellamy finds out he’s a fairy when he’s twenty-two.

He’s not actually a fairy since, unlike his sister Octavia, he’s not a girl. He’s more of a magical being of some sort or, as Clarke likes to call him, a Specialist, whatever the hell that is. However, Octavia gets to call herself a fairy, as well as a magical transformation sequence and a nice new outfit that just appears out of nowhere –which is ten different kinds of cool. And since Bellamy’s been raising his sister since he was six, he can call himself a freaking honorary fairy. Life at least owes him that much.

But he’s getting ahead of himself.

See, it goes kind of like this: Bellamy’s checking out of his afternoon shift at the bar he works at to put Octavia through her last two years of high school, and hopefully even college, when a girl stumbles into the place. She’s blonde, and wearing jeans that look like they came straight out of the nineties, or early two thousands at most. She’s also sporting a top that ends barely above her belly button and seems much more fashionable, but all in all she’s what he imagines an actual hipster should look like. She looks scared, though, her breath erratic and her eyes wide open while she turns around to watch the door every few seconds.

Not long after, she approaches the bar. Bellamy could be on his way home now, but he’s intrigued, so he takes a rag and starts drying some glasses, throwing a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. He can swear she’s trembling a little. He probably should leave, but it’s not like he can leave the bar alone, and it is not uncharacteristic of Monroe to be a little late on Tuesdays, slow as they are.

The girl approaches the bar, and he rubs the glass a little harder, feigning nonchalance. He doesn’t think he’s doing a very good job at it. “You want anything?” he asks casually, but the girl just shrugs. When, not thirty seconds later, she throws her head back to look at the door again, Bellamy gives up on the act. “Hey, are you being followed? Are you in danger?” he inquires, touching her arm to get her attention. She looks at him then, the blue of her irises barely visible around the blown out pupils.

“Yes, and yes.” She answers, her voice firm and a little too deep for a girl who looks barely two or three years older than his little sister. Bellamy knows it is possible and even likely that she’s setting him up for a robbery, or just running away from her parents because of some petty argument, but he _is_ a big brother, and her scared expression reminds him of Octavia’s on that day when the social worker first showed up, a week after his mother’s death. So he puts the glass away and takes an already clean one, fills it with water and slides it towards, her. She takes it with trembling hands, almost letting it fall, then sends a confused glance his way.

“Get in there,” he instructs, pointing to the staff room with what he hopes is a reassuring, trustworthy voice, but probably comes off as creepy. Well, if she _is_ robbing him, then she deserves it.. “I’ll get you when it’s safe to go outside.” Bellamy doesn’t mention that he doesn’t know when that will be, neither does he know who’s looking for her, but he guesses that there must be a reason why she’s not telling him, and he’s never been one to pry. When she’s closed the door behind her, Bellamy goes back to tidying up the bar, as if nothing had happened.

A short while after the blonde arrives; a guy walks in and orders a tap beer. He doesn’t look suspicious at all, so Bellamy is bartender-nice towards him. Later, though, he looks at the door and sees it get flanked by two guys in suits, while a third one, wearing a nicer suit, walks in.

The man approaches the bar, resolute in every step he takes, and Bellamy feels instinctively apprehensive. The guy sits on a stool, smiling at Bellamy. He nods in response, and then asks if he wants anything. “I’m actually looking for my sister.” The man answers, sliding a fifty towards Bellamy’s side of the bar. “She’s blonde, about this tall, wearing a blue-green dress. We had an argument and she ran away from me towards this side of town. You know how little sisters are.” The man can’t know that Bellamy _does_ know, and that he’s been on that position many times before, but he doesn’t resemble the blonde girl at all, and besides, she’s not wearing a blue dress.

“Sorry buddy, she’s not showed up here.” He tells him, the best poker face he’s managed to work up while being a bartender perched on his face. Sliding the bill back, Bellamy asks: “Do you want anything else?”

The man stares intently at him, as if trying to decipher whether he’s being lied to. Bellamy’s pretty sure his lie wasn’t bought, but he stands his ground. After a while, the man takes the bill back, making Bellamy think he’s going to leave, but instead he exchanges it for a hundred dollar one. “Are you sure?” he asks, and it makes Bellamy slightly (very) annoyed, fisting his hands beneath the bar where the man cannot see. He already refused the first bribe, what makes him think he’s going to take the second one, however more substantial it is?

“Pretty sure.” He replies, pushing back the bill with a firmer gesture. Hearing the door open, he looks up to see Monroe (finally) coming in for her shift. She waves a hand towards him, and then makes a funny expression.

“Is something the matter?” she asks when she reaches the bar, her long braided hair hitting off the edge. Her expression has gone neutral, but her eyes are still fixated on Bellamy as she gets behind the bar.

“No, miss. I was just leaving.” The man says, taking the money back and striding towards the door. When he walks out, the men flanking the entrance follow.

 “What the hell was that?” she asks, tying a “The Factory Station Restaurant & Bar” (but mostly just bar) apron around her waist. “And why the hell are you glowing?”

Bellamy glances down at himself, not seeing anything other than the tanned, freckled arms he’s always had. He tries to think of a smartass comment to offer to Monroe for her tardiness, but just throws the rag he was using at her when he finds he can think of none. “You’re late.” He states. She laughs, giving up the question, then picks up the rag and starts scrubbing the counter without another word.

* * *

 

While Monroe busies herself by the bar, he makes a beeline for the staff room, where he finds the blonde girl sitting in one of the couches, the glass of water held tightly with both her hands. He means to tell her the guy is gone, but she looks up at him and beats him to speak.

“Are you from Magix?” she asks. Bellamy wants to answer, but he doesn’t really know how.

“What’s Magix?” he replies, instead, hearing Octavia’s voice in his head say _only idiots answer a question with another question,_ but then his idiocy is something pretty much established. “Look –Who are you? And why was that guy looking for you?”

She takes a sip of the water, then sits up properly, her whole stance changing: her back ramrod straight, shoulders a little thrown back, her head held high.

“I am Clarke, princess of planet Alpha.” She says formally. Bellamy knows there are still many monarchies left in earth –twenty six, to be exact-, but he doesn’t think any of those royalties are from a planet other than Earth. Besides, if the girl (Clarke) really were a princess from another planet, she’d have to be an alien–and she looks pretty human to him. He’s about to make a sarcastic commentary on the matter, when she goes on. “The man you hid me from is Cage of the house Wallace, prince regent of a smaller planet whose name is very hard to pronounce in the common tongue, but it can be translated to Mount Weather. The reason why he was looking for me is quite a long story,” there she makes a pause to sip some more water and regain her breath, but quickly goes back to talking before Bellamy can even pull three words together. “But the gist of it is that he wants to abduct me so he can experiment with my blood. I was on my way to school when he and his men intercepted me, which is why I had to open a portal to earth and mix in with the crowd in here. Thank you for helping me”

So far, Bellamy has been leaning on the door, but in light of the information Clarke just shared, he finds that he needs to sit down. He goes over to sit on the couch in front of her, while a new wave of emotions takes over his body. He doesn’t really want to believe a word, but she looks pretty sure, and Monroe did just ask him if he was glowing. If this is a TV set up for a joke, it’s a hell of a good one. “You still have to answer one question.” He says, running one hand through his hair.

Clarke nods, putting the glass in the small coffee table between them. Her gaze locks in a point past Bellamy’s shoulder, and she leaves the couch to start walking in what he thinks is the general direction of the wilted room plant. “Magix is the convergent city of the magic realm. It’s like New York, I guess.” She says from behind him. “But for magical beings. When you were talking to Cage, your body started glowing like you were casting a convincing charm on him. I’d thought you were a warlock, but there doesn’t seem to be much magic in you. Maybe you’re descended from a fairy. Or a Specialist.”

Bellamy feels overwhelmed by the afflux of information, so he takes the discarded glass of water and drains it in a single gulp. “So I am a magical being,” he summarizes, in a cynical tone. “My name is Bellamy, by the way. And the guy who was looking for you wants to use you as a guinea pig, and you’re an alien princess.” He finishes, starting to turn around.

“Fairy princess.” She corrects, cheery. He’s about to retort, but when he looks over he finds Clarke standing beside the plant, which is no longer wilted, and she’s not wearing jeans and a top anymore, but a blue-green dress with feather like adornments, vines crawling up her feet instead of shoes and, if it were not enough, sprouting from her back are a pair of blue, taller than him, _wings._


	2. the most unbelievable thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy, Clarke, Octavia, some action and a lot of disbelief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has been written for more than a week, but life kept getting in the way of looking into the edits made by the wonderful [ nicole ](http://ughbloodybellamy.tumblr.com/) and fixing things up. Finally did it today and so i give you this nearly twice-as-long chapter.
> 
> Biggest of thanks to nicole for her help <3

If anything can be said about him, it’s that Bellamy Blake is no stranger to shock.

The first time he remembers feeling shocked, he was four and on his way to the bathroom in the small hours of the morning, when he caught his mom dropping a small, ribbon-less present underneath the equally small Christmas tree. In retrospection, that might have been the event that defined the cynical part of his character.

But anyway, two years later he was six and had to witness his mother give birth on the living room. So as far as shocking experiences go, that one was hard to top. With Octavia came less Christmas presents and a new wave of shocking stuff (first change of a diaper, first vaccine, first word – obviously it was ‘bell’-, first day of school, first _boyfriend_ ), but until this day, Bellamy could pretty much say nothing ever topped witnessing Octavia come into this world

Of course, six year old Bellamy (and all the Bellamys that followed) had never encountered a fairy. But twenty-two year old Bellamy has. She’s standing right in front of him, inspecting the plant, and he feels like he might faint. Clarke, the fairy, has a sheepish look on her face as she gazes at him, the hand that’s not otherwise caring for the plant hidden behind her back.

“What the fuck.” He croaks, more of a statement than a question. In front of him, Clarke snorts. He’s kind of hoping this is the part where she tells him it’s all a joke and he’s on television, wishing Monroe would enter the room to laugh at him, as well as the creepy guy that showed up at the bar. He’d even laugh along, but after a few seconds of nothing Bellamy is almost sure she’s telling the truth.

“Do you have a place I can stay?” she asks, her body starting to glow. Her _wings_ start to fade until there’s only a golden outline of them floating in the air and then nothing. A second of blinding light later, the dress has reverted into the same semi-normal clothes she was wearing before. This can’t be happening to him. “I think it would be best if I stayed on earth for the night, to throw Cage off the trail.”

“You don’t even know me.” He tells her bluntly, gripping the back of the couch for moral support. Maybe it can speak, who knows anything anymore. “What if I’m a rapist or something?”

“You’re a magical being.” She simply says, approaching him with ease. Bellamy feels the need to stand back a few paces, but his mother raised him better than to move away from a girl just because she’s different. Raising a hand to his cheek, Clarke touches it with her fingertips, and Bellamy feels her soft fingers stroke a little; her touch is calming, but he also feels an odd kind of warmth radiate from them. “I can feel it. You helped me even though you had nothing to gain.” She smiles then, blindingly, and his stomach does a somersault. Or something like that.

“I have a pull-out couch.” He mumbles, leaning a little more into her touch. He means to say something more –when the door bursts open.

“Blake, your sister’s out –oh.” Monroe stops, holding the door open with one hand while she eyes Clarke appreciatively. Bellamy scowls a little, partly for being interrupted, partly because Clarke retracted her hand from his cheek. “I’ll tell her you’ll be out in a minute.” She says quickly, waggling her eyebrows in his direction. When she closes the door after herself, Bellamy groans, running a hand through his hair.

“I was hoping to keep Octavia, my little sister, out of the loop.” He explains when she sends a confused glance his way. Clarke tells him they needn’t tell his sister of her real identity (or his, for that matter, since he’s magical too, apparently). He gestures for her to take the lead, following her outside. When they come out, Octavia is rolling herself on a stool as if she were six and not sixteen, wearing her dance lessons get up and her long hair in a braid.

It takes her longer to spot him than to raise an eyebrow at him in evident amusement. “You bastard,” his sister says, barely containing her laughter. “At least wait ‘till you’re off work.”

Clarke can’t have missed her meaning, as she just snorts again, like everything the Blakes say provokes her mirth.

“It’s not like that O.” he replies, approaching her and tugging on her braid like he did when she was five. “This is Clarke, she’s Sterling’s cousin and she’ll be staying the night with us.” He explains calmly. He’s not talked to Sterling since graduating high school, and he never even went to his house, let alone met his family. He thinks he might have had a sister –but hopefully Octavia will buy his story. And anyway, he’s still hoping the whole situation is a set up. A different snort echoes through the mostly empty bar, this time from Monroe. Bellamy maturely gives her the finger.

“See you tomorrow, Monroe.” He calls, leading the way out the door and into the street. He usually takes the bus to work, since his home is about a fifteen minute walk away, but it’s a nice evening despite everything that’s happened, and he’s hoping to catch a hidden camera. Behind him, Clarke and Octavia soon become friends, and he overhears the blonde telling his sister she’s nineteen and likes gardening, which sounds too normal for a girl who had wings twenty minutes ago. Bellamy looks up to the sky, wondering why the universe decided to make him the world’s biggest joke.

As they approach their house, they cross a mostly deserted park that will save them a few minutes. By then, Octavia and Clarke are discussing musical taste –and by discussing, he means Octavia is mentioning bands and singers and Clarke mentions that she’s ‘never listened to them’ because of course, earth artists aren’t played in the magic world, or whatever. This entire business is ridiculous.

Bellamy thinks that Clarke knows he needs space to think things through, and that’s why she hasn’t talked to him since leaving the bar. Octavia, he knows, is just pissed that she had to walk to the bar instead of him picking her up at dance lessons like they agreed, so she’s not talking to him in an effort to prove some point that will be forgotten once she wants to go out, which will probably be later. He’s saying no anyway, just to spite her. This day has been weird enough. He considers suggesting take out, when a scream echoes through the park.

Turning around, Bellamy sees his sister (the source of the scream) and Clarke facing a strange creature: vaguely anthropomorphous, but purple-skinned and taller. Its hands sport sharp-looking claws and on its face sit two oversized black eyes that are currently fixed on Clarke, though they dart off to watch his sister from time to time. Bellamy’s never been so terrified. He’s so scared his body goes numb, and he can’t move even though he wants to. A second later, the creature lungs at Clarke. He hears Octavia yell “NO!” but it sounds as if it were miles away and not only a few steps. By the time he reacts, Octavia is throwing herself in front of Clarke, her arms extended in a seemingly futile attempt to protect a girl she’s only just met.

Seemingly, because there are _purple rays_ shooting off her hands; next thing he knows, his sister’s body is glowing like Clarke’s did when she was transforming.

_Oh my god,_ Bellamy thinks, mortified, _my little sister’s a fairy._

He would faint, but then an explosion occurs, probably due to his sister’s fucking _laser beams_ hitting the thing, and the sound is enough to snap him back to reality –or whatever warped version of it he’s living in the moment. He runs toward his sister, throwing a punch that the creature dodges easily, though Bellamy gets to feel its clammy skin against his knuckles when they graze its side.

He’s preparing to throw another punch now that the monster’s focused on him but the opportunity is taken from him when a yellow beam reaches the thing and throws it back a few meters. Looking back, he finds Clarke’s transformed too: her hands are glowing, and she starts _flying_ towards the monster. It’s surreal. When she reaches it, she aims a kick at its head, then screams something too fast for him to hear that makes vines grow around the thing, keeping it from moving.

Clarke floats beside it and touches her fingertips to its face, just like she to Bellamy’s back at the bar, and then the monster along with the vines disappear the same way Clarke’s wings did before.

The most unbelievable thing is no one was around to witness it. Bellamy Blake and his sister were attacked by a fucking monster, said sister turned into a fairy right before his eyes, and no one fucking saw it. Well, that and that he’s a little attracted to Clarke after seeing her defeat a monster.

“What the fuck” he hears Octavia mutter behind him. When he looks at her, she’s still in her fairy attire, looking at herself with utter disbelief. Hers is made out of a purplish fabric that looks like it was made out of a flower, a deeper purple ribbon circling her waist and coming together in the center of her chest. Her wings are blue and purple and white, and they’re _huge_. This can’t be happening to him. After a few seconds, she looks up at him, and whispers “What the fuck?”

She seems to be expecting an answer out of him, but it’s Clarke who answers instead. “Concentrate.” Clarke tells her, laying her hands on Octavia’s shoulders. “Close your eyes and think of the clothes you were wearing before you transformed.” Octavia does as she’s told, closing her eyes as she fists her hands, breathing in deeply. It takes her a little while, but then she starts shining, and seconds later she’s back in her dancing clothes.

Bellamy can still see her climbing trees and missing a tooth behind his eyelids, this can’t be happening. “O?” he mumbles, feeling small, “are you okay?”

Octavia crosses the distance separating them in a heartbeat, wrapping her arms around his torso and burrowing her face on his chest. Her breathing is erratic, and even though she’s been on her rebellious teenage phase for the better part of two years, he can see his five year old baby sister sneaking into his room after a nightmare when he looks down to her, returning the embrace. She speaks into his chest she’s fine, and Bellamy runs a hand through her hair, undoing her braid.

Moments later, a cough makes them break apart. Clarke is standing before them, back in normal clothes, looking slightly embarrassed as she says “We should take cover.” The Blakes don’t feel embarrassed by their show of affection, and start walking. “No. It’s too dangerous to continue in the open.” She walks over to them and takes both of their hands. “Close your eyes and picture your house.” She instructs, clutching their hands a little tighter. Or, at least, she tightens her grip on Bellamy’s hand. He feels the warmth from earlier radiate from her hand again, and when he opens his eyes, he’s right outside his house.

 “Nice.” He mutters, unlocking the door. Octavia immediately takes Clarke upstairs to her room, and Bellamy is left alone in the living room, to ponder all that’s happened. This might turn out to be a very vivid dream, or maybe it’s real but Clarke will be on her way tomorrow and everything will be back to normal; either way, there is nothing Bellamy can do at the moment, and the certainty makes him calmer. With a resolution in mind, he strides over to the kitchen to take two aspirins for the throbbing headache he’s had since Clarke showed up at the bar, and starts preparing dinner.

Two hours later, after he’s prepared stew, taken a shower and changed into comfy pajama pants and a t-shirt, Bellamy calls the girls to dinner. They come down as he’s serving three plates, a guilty look to their faces that makes him suspicious when they sit to dinner.

The dinner is spent in an awkward silence that doesn’t get better when Octavia breaks the news and announces that she’s going with Clarke to visit her fairy college.

“What?” Bellamy croaks, once he’s swallowed the spoonful of stew he nearly choked on.

“Clarke says that the reason we have these –these _powers_ , it’s because one or both of our parents were magical beings. Since we both have it, I guess it was mom.” Despite everything, he can understand his sister’s reasoning: Aurora Blake didn’t have a birth certificate, or a social security number, which seemed fine with the various employers she had over the years even though anyone else wouldn’t have hired her without it. Also, there were times when she didn’t understand things her children were talking about, like historical facts or old TV shows, even though she was supposed to know, kind of in the way Clarke that doesn’t know any earth music. “Clarke says I can get into Alfea if I’m a fairy, no matter where I’m from. I want to take a look.” She finishes, going back to her dish. Bellamy wants to argue about it, but he knows how stubborn Octavia is, and he doesn’t think he can change her mind. So instead he glares at Clarke.

“You can come too,” She tells him, a pacifying tone to her voice, “there’s a school for guys too; it’s called Red Fountain. I’m sure they’d take you.”

Bellamy snorts. He’s too old to go to a boarding school for magic kids. He’s got a job and a house to take care of, and he’s not yet willing to believe any of this is real.

“What about school?” he asks Octavia, choosing to ignore Clarke’s offer, because it’s absurd. His younger sister groans. He knows she doesn’t exactly _love_ her life here, knows she doesn’t really get along with most of her class but one girl that mostly comes over to ogle him; but he never thought she hated her life here so much to try to change it at the first opportunity.

“Cover for me.” She begs, activating the puppy dog eyes. Bellamy is so annoyed. “It’ll be just for a day or two. Say I’m sick.” He stares at her for a minute with his best poker face, but he’s never really been able to say no to his sister, and he sighs deeply while shrugging after a while. She actually _squeals_ , then stands up to throw her arms around him and kiss his cheek. “You’re the best.”

Meanwhile, Clarke’s finishing her food in silence, watching them with a sad look. Bellamy wants to ask, but he also doesn’t want to pry, so he just takes the empty plates and bullies them both into doing the dishes while he goes to get a blanket and a pillow for the couch. When they come out, he nods his head towards the door leading to his room.

“You can take it.” he tells the blonde girl, pulling on the couch. “I’ll be fine here.”

She tries to protest but Bellamy puts on his earbuds and ignores her completely, choosing to read a book instead. She must finally relent, because when he stops reading, he’s alone in the living room.

With a sigh, he snuggles into the couch, hitting the pillow for good measure, and slips into a dreamless sleep, hoping to wake up to find everything was a weird dream.

* * *

 

Of course, Wednesday is his day off, and he wakes up near noon to find a note from O that says she and Clarke already left (damn and he was really hoping everything that happened the day before was but a dream), as well as called the school.

Bellamy spends that day cleaning around the house and working on the novel he’s been writing since he was eighteen, feeling the minutes go by in an excruciatingly slow pace. Night comes again, but the girls don’t, making him worry. The next day is spent in a similar manner, with the exception that he has work that day –though he’s never hated being at the bar before. He finds that every single customer takes too long to order and even longer to leave.

Eventually, Monroe ushers him out of the place thirty minutes early, claiming he’s ‘moodier than usual and impossible to work with’, ordering him to come back the next day in a better mood.

When he reaches his house, he finds the door unlocked so he takes the broom standing by one of the windows and holds it like a bat with one hand, opening the door with the other. But there are no thugs or monsters waiting for him inside, instead there’s Octavia and Clarke, the first smiling broadly while the second waves at him with a shy smile.

“I’m going to Alfea.” She announces decidedly. Bellamy runs a hand through his hair, feeling the headache that’s been haunting him for the better part of two days come back in full force. He considers letting her go on her own for about half of a second, but a voice in his head, eerily similar to his mother’s whispers _your sister, your responsibility_ in the back of his mind. She’s not even a legal adult, for fuck’s sake. What choice does he have?

Then he remembers the paralyzing fear he felt when that monster showed up at the park and decides he never wants to experience that again, so he replies with a tired voice: “Then I’m going, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wanna hang out on [ tumblr? ](http://wanderinglilly.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> i may or may not release the embarrassing dolldivine picture of clarke's fairy outfit if asked nicely enough. 


End file.
